


Please hold the line

by AnnaTaure



Series: The blue house on the hill [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Prank calls gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 05:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14610759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: Poe goes on calling General Hux for fun, wishing for his phone prank to carry on until the officer cracks and makes a mistake, but their conversations take an unexpected turn.





	Please hold the line

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation and extension of my previous story _Ne raccrochez pas s'il vous plaît_ and the title of the series was borrowed from Maxime Le Forestier's _San Francisco_.  
>  I blame Alderson for this one.

Calling General Hux in the middle of a battle, misspelling his name on purpose, to discuss his real or supposed relationship with Kylo Ren, and make a dubious (and unwelcome) joke about his mother, was certainly not the smartest idea Poe Dameron had ever had. Recontacting the dangerous redhead was probably the most stupid idea Poe Dameron had ever had. The growing boredom and the depression following the battle on Crait nonetheless led him to use the channel towards the _Finalizer_ again to needle the irate officer. 

That second try did not happen exactly as Poe had planned, but proved to be still satisfying. 

"A good day to you, General," the pilot bellowed as soon as the communication was established. "I do hope I don't disturb you too much on this beautiful day?"

"Screech as much as you want, Dameron," Hux's harsh voice replied from the other side, "you're not on the bridge intercom."

He was learning fast, Poe thought with a predatory grin. Good, very good... 

"A tête-à-tête? I'm flattered... I didn't imagine that things would progress so fast between us. What does your new Supreme Leader think about it?" 

"If you absolutely wish to bother me for one of your pranks, Dameron, do try and make sure it's good quality," Hux groaned, suddenly tired. "I won't have time to grant you otherwise. Goodbye."

The communication was cut immediately, but Poe noticed nonetheless that the General had not categorically refused to hear him again. Perfect. It was much better to play in tandem, particularly when the opposite side was getting better at it. 

* *

During the few weeks that followed, Poe went on with his act, loading every call with false information. He knew that Hux would not be fooled but his goal was more to get some distraction from his dark thoughts than to brainwash the enemy. They had just buried Organa and Poe did not feel able, or worthy, to replace her. He did not have her experience. He made mistakes from time to time. But Holdo had been shot by a sniper right in the middle of her negotiations with Corellia, Statura was still missing in action and Ackbar had been killed aboard his ship against the _Supremacy_. He was the last one left in command of the barely hundred people still ready to take arms against the First Order. The pressure was high, almost too much for him, and he had no one to share it with him. 

He had also realized that Finn would never see him as more than a friend, a very dear one certainly, but nothing more. The former stormtrooper only thought about Rey, putting her on a pedestal that the young woman had sometimes troubles accepting. The snark and sarcasm that Poe traded at least once a week with Hux were slowly growing into a strange form of therapy and it seemed to him that it was the case as well for the General. Was Hux feeling as isolated as he did? It would give them one more thing in common, then, an idea that made Poe ill-at-ease as much as it intrigued him.

Then one day his weekly call remained unanswered. 

He had probably found his alter-ego's rare hours of sleep; the man seemed unable to rest long but then again, he was not a droid and he needed some time off. Poe had not expected to be called back, but his comlink beeped less than twenty hours later, Hux's voice coming from the other end of the line. 

"My apologies for missing our session this week, Commander. I was unfortunately unavailable."

"Some ultra-secret meeting?" Poe laughed, quite flattered to be considered as a recurrent element in Hux's life, and not even a negative one. 

"Infirmary," the General replied more abruptly. 

"Does a nasty virus infect your ship?"

Poe thought for a moment that Hux would tell him to fuck off, but the other man finally let out a bitter:

"A bone-breaking virus named Kylo Ren, indeed."

"Bone-breaking?"

Suddenly things were not so funny anymore. 

"Nothing more than a broken wrist this time. No need to worry about it, Commander," Hux replied, lowering his voice as if he feared someone would hear. 

"Worry? Are you daft?" Poe protested before cutting the line. 

The idea that Ren could send his second-in-command to the hospital disturbed him more then he would admit. What could the Resistance expect with such a madman? And Rey? In how much danger was she with this animal roaming free? Poe adored the young woman like the little sister he had never had and to imagine her in Ren's clutches was simply unbearable for him. 

* *

He waited for three weeks before calling the _Finalizer_ again. The Resistance had then other matters to deal with, recruiting and launching sabotage operations wherever they had the means to do so. The leadership in the First Order seemed uncertain at best; Ren was losing himself, more focused on Rey than on strategy and diplomacy, and in spite of his subordinates' efforts, it began to show. Former allies were turning against them and firms refused to sell them rations or ships. 

After signing a very favorable agreement with a shipyard in the Colonies, Poe thought it was time to annoy Hux again, hoping he would lead him to make a tactical mistake. 

Once again, the result was not the one he expected. Hux's voice when he took the call was raspy, low, tired beyond any description. In the background, Poe could hear the beeps and clicks of medical apparatus.

"Did you go back to the infirmary, or you didn't leave it?" the Commander asked, trying to hide his dismay as much as possible. 

"Back," Hux whispered. "The mattress is more comfortable than in my rooms anyway. Why are you calling?"

"I was planning to ask you to transmit my congratulations to your boss for his style and efficiency, but I think it would be rather unwelcome."

"Indeed," Hux croaked "but you bring me a nice distraction." 

The confession of weakness was obvious. 

"I can report it to later," Poe offered, while wondering what kan-cell had stung him that he would be so obliging with the enemy.

"Stay, please. Speak about... whatever you want." 

He seemed so vulnerable and lost that Poe obeyed without really thinking, telling the years on Yavin IV, the farm his father owned there, the psychedelic flowers growing everywhere... How long had he gone without talking about anything but war, battles and loss? The words were flowing, before he stopped, suddenly fearing that he was giving weapons to his enemy. 

"It's fine," Hux muttered. "This line is secure and everything you say here will remain between us. I have not stooped that low. And I need -"

He promptly hung up, aware he had said too much. It would have amused Poe if he had not realized that the man was now such a regular patient of the medbay that he brought his working tools there. 

* *

Another month came and went without contact, while the Resistance received enough support to recreate two complete squadrons of fighters. Rey was still needling Kylo Ren, purposefully using their bond through the Force to make him go mad with rage and jealousy, inventing if need be details on her life with Finn. If this tactic worked just fine in terms of power vacancy on the other side, it also had less rejoicing consequences for the unstable Supreme Leader's subordinates.

Hux was once again sick and injured when he called Poe and instead of some curt words and bitter musings, he talked a lot that day, spilling in a halted, exhausted voice, all the burden he had been bearing for months. The soldiers killed by Ren's mood swings, the slaps and punches that rained on him - his constant nightmare for decades - the work of his life slipping through his fingers, the permanent dread... 

"He's going to kill you!" Poe ranted. "Get the kriff out of there while you still can!"

"Where to go? And who will protect my men if I desert?"

It was something Poe had not taken into account, and which left him thinking for a moment. It was so easy to forget that the other guys were human beings as well... 

"One last thing: why the hell do you give a fuck, Dameron?" Hux hissed. "The death of 'General Starkiller' would be a boon for your side, and this farce only lasted too long. Never call me again, and I will do the same for you."

* *

Hux kept his word. During two months no one heard about him except through the Resistance spies, who were mostly reporting his almost complete disappearance... and the growing number of desertions caused by the Supreme Leader's sheer incompetence. Most of those deserters, however, chose to make themselves scarce and to scatter across the galaxy rather than join the Resistance.

Then, to everybody's stupefaction, when they believed they still had years of fighting ahead, the _Finalizer_ transmitted a surrender message.

"And what does Supreme Leader Ren think about it?" Poe wondered, looking for a trap. 

"There is no Supreme Leader anymore," a woman's voice, tense and tired, replied. 

Poe turned towards Rey, who nodded discreetly, a thin smile on her lips. 

"And your General cannot announce your surrender himself?"

There was a silence on the other side. 

"There is no General either," the spokeperson conceded.

Around Poe, hurrahs and whistles exploded, but he felt unable to join them. Intellectually, he knew that Hux had never had the slightest chance to survive the war, whoever the victor was, but the absence of that voice in the intercom left a bitter taste in the pilot's mouth. Hux was his double, his mirror, who had just disappeared. Rey discreetly touched his hand. At least she understood.

" _Finalizer_ , transmit your position. Weapons and shields deactivated when we arrive."

"As you wish, Commander Dameron."

Keeping their word, the crew of the destroyer lowered its deflector shields and disarmed its canons and missiles the minute the Resistance's small fleet emerged from hyperspace at the meeting point. No fighter left the massive ship to attack them. Not a single trooper in sight in the hangar where Poe had lande his X-Wing, only officers, among them a severe-looking woman with her left arm, or rather what remained of it, in a sling. Other people in the group bore signs of violence, when he took a closer look, bruises or scratches. 

"Could you explain what happened on this ship?" Rey asked in the most neutral tone she could muster, arriving right on Poe's heels. 

"Lord Ren accused a part of the general staff of plotting against him," a dark-haired young man with the rank of Lieutenant told them, "which was not... completely untrue. He was ready to slaughter all the bridge staff when the General tried to reason with him.

Rey emitted a disdainful snort. As if Kylo Ren could be reasoned with. It had not been for lack of trying on her part... 

This time he had not listened, blinded by his fury, and had tried to slay Chief Petty Officer Unamo (hence the missing part of her arm).

This time Ren had unleashed his full rage against Hux when he had interfered and wrecked his mind before attacking him physically.

This time Hux had not gotten up after Ren had thrown him against a wall when he had attempted to protect his subordinates. He had remained on the floor, his head in a growing pool of blood. 

This time, soldiers and officers alike had taken their weapons out and fired. 

Ren could block one or two blaster shots. Not sixty. When Lieutenant Mitaka suggested they examined the body by themselves, Poe and Rey accepted, at least to make sure their torturer was really dead.

It did not make a nice sight. A shot had burnt through his right cheek, leaving the teeth uncovered and giving the impression that a second mouth opened on his face. His chest was riddled with impacts as well as his sword hand. All the hatred accumulated during years unloaded in a matter of seconds... In their own way, the men and women of the First Order were as loyal and devoted to their General as the Resistance to Organa. 

"And Hux?" Rey asked.

"In the medbay," Mitaka replied. 

"I thought Ren had killed him," she objected. 

"From a certain point of view," the young man rectified, his face turning from formal to sad. 

Hux, though still alive, did not look much better than his rival. His too pale skin was covered in bruised of various colors, his skull still bandaged, an oxygen tube tapped to one of his nostrils and a monitor beeping with each heartbeat by his side. 

"He does not remember us," the Lieutenant said, almost crying. "Nothing, in fact, or close enough, of the last twenty years. Perhaps even more."

At the sound of their voices, Hux turned his head towards them but there was no recognition in his gaze, no tilt in his expression. He had fought them for years and he could not even remember who they were. 

The formal surrender of the _Finalizer_ was signed in the following hours. The First Order was deprieved of leadership thanks to its own ruler's madness and the whole organization would promptly fall apart, not having the same implantation as the late Galactic Empire. 

Poe took care of the first session of negotiations before getting away from it, exhausted. He was definitely not made for politics, no matter what Organa might have thought about it.

While cleaning his room in their base, he found his old comlink, which he had thrown under a pile of clothes so as not to be tempted to call Hux again. The little red diode of the voice-mail was blinking, signaling a message waiting. Poe unlocked the device to listen to it. 

_Dameron? If you are available, can you...? Listen, I am sorry for yelling at you the other day... it is indeed very likely that I will die on the job, after all. I just wanted... one last time..._

A wheezing breath, then:

_Poe, please..._

His voice had cracked on those last words. Poe dropped the comlink as if it had burnt him. 

* * * *

**Four years later...**

The Republic had first had some troubles admitting that General Starkiller had somehow vanished into thin air due to a poorly-timed amnesia. But after weeks of medical exams, complicated by a temporary aphasia, and Poe's testimony, as well as recordings from the bridge of the _Finalizer_ , they had to surrender to the evidence. Hux had almost lost two thirds of his existence and was not a danger for them anymore. There was a philosophical debate about the necessity to trial or not a man for deeds he could not recall, then the powers that be considered it was more comfortable to sweep everything under the rug before their good citizens learned about it. 

The provisional council had nonetheless decided to exile him for life on a new colony at the fringe of the Unknown Regions that was not even affiliated with the Republic yet, a mostly oceanic planet named Theris, so that he would make himself useful for the community. Any trip out of the system would be punished by death. 

The place was doted with islands and volcanic archipelagos of various sizes and its mineral resources made it an excellent target for colonization, which had started completely unofficially. Quite quickly, it had also been noted that the numerous hot springs had interesting medical properties as well as a recreative value and the therapy clients had began to venture on Theris.

If Hux had lost the memory of facts, he still retained his learnings and his skills as en engineer had been put to task to make the various cities scattered across the archipelagos autonomous, using wind, sun and geothermics to generate their own energy. 

He had succeeded beyond expectations and within some decades, Theris would turn into a flourishing space port. The planet was very pleasant to Poe's taste, though very different from what he had known until then. Its capitol city Akrotiri was a hive of whitewashed houses under blue or green domes, clinging to the side of high hills of dark basalt. Dark red domes signaled the energy plants and the public hot baths while a little cable car linked the harbor to the peaks surrounding the city. 

To be allowed to go there, Poe had used his health as a pretext, without needing to play it up too much. The numerous wounds received during the war often acted as an uncomfortable reminder of the conflict, as well as the days spent in zero gravity in his fighter, and some treatments could not hurt him. He also hoped to find a silent and competent psy-medic to talk to. Nightmares and panic attacks had been his companions for far too long and he could not keep taking antidepressants and sleeping pills to the dosages he had been using during the war. The main goal of his trip was nonetheless to find Hux and to known at least how he was doing, if he had been accepted by the rest of the community... Why deny it, Poe felt guilty about the former officer, wondering if his repeated calls had not led to his fall. 

* *

All things considered, Theris was a lovely place, Poe decided as he took a deep breath, catching the fresh scents of sea water and pine trees. After being used to weeks of traveling on more or less derelict ships with the stink of engine oil and the unwashed bodies of his coworkers (not to mention his own), the former ace pilot felt like he had reached Heaven.

After two hours and some useful tips from traders working on the local harbor, Poe had settled in a little inn which, like most of the city, looked carved from a block of white stone, its outside walls left windowless while the inside was a tiny oasis of plants and fresh water organized around a patio.

His room was simple but comfortable: a bed with plump, embroidered pillows and a coverlet, a nightstand, a wooden chest for his clothes, a table and two chairs, colorful carpets on the floor and a small refresher. That was much better than most of his recent accommodations. Poe dropped his bag on the floor, picked his clean set of clothes and went to take a much-needed shower - and not a sonic, thank you very much.

The late afternoon found Poe wandering through the streets, looking left and right at the overflowing vegetation crawling up the walls - it seemed like the inhabitants were having a contest over who could produce the biggest, most colorful flowers or the lushest decorative bushes. The steep slope of the cobbled streets allowed the passerby to cast a quick look on the flat roofs and terraces of the houses below their level at some points, and Poe could not help taking a quick peek at some particularly beautiful gardens or a handsome guy napping in a hammock. The place truly did wonders for his peace of mind.

Poe met with his engineer sooner than he had imagined. Two days after landing on Theris, as he climbed into a cabin of the cable car, he spotted a familiar red head. 

Hux had changed for the better, Poe thought. He had lost his sickly pallor and a short beard softened his severe features. More surprising was the kind of bundle he wore on a strap, another little orange head emerging from it, as well as a baby's tiny hand. Poe blinked, then remembered that every colon residing for more than three years on site was bound to provide a posterity, naturally or not. 

Hux turned his head and met Poe's eyes. He waited until the cabin had reached its destination to start a conversation, however. 

"The most famous Poe Dameron in this forsaken hole... Did you come to check that I was not making any mischief?" 

He did not remember the pilot, of course. He only knew of him the articles published on the Holonet.

"What... no, I... Matter of health, in fact. I creak and crack from everywhere." 

His sheepish expression brought a smile on Hux's thin face. 

"This being said," Poe admitted, "I was curious to see how civilian life treated you." 

Hoisting the child more comfortably on his hip, Hux stared at him for a moment, frowning. 

"Your voice...", he whispered. "I know your voice. Go on talking, please. We have already met, haven't we?"


End file.
